


Want

by followsrabbit



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:24:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followsrabbit/pseuds/followsrabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He sneers at Snow and leers at Wellbelove, because he knows Snow will misinterpret it. (He always misinterprets.) </p><p>Set before Carry On.  Drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want

Baz starts his morning by sneering at Snow and leering at Wellbelove, because he knows Snow will misinterpret it. (He always misinterprets.) Because they’re all pretty looks and storybooks and light locks and 'ever after'.  

(Well.  Snow always misinterprets this.  The vampire thing,  _that_ he picks up like a golden retriever with a fucking chewstick.)

Baz can’t fault him too much for it.  No more than he faults him for everything else. Pitches are good actors when they want to be, and Wellbelove is rather lovely, albeit in a gothic heroine way that wouldn’t attract him even if he did prefer heroines to heroes.

But she attracts Snow.  So naturally the idiot can’t imagine anyone not wanting her.

Sensing Snow’s eyes on his back, feeling the ragged hum of magic that always announces him, Baz tilts his chin and catches her mascara-hooded gaze, lulling his stare down towards her neck.  Her chest.  Her throat.

More ragged.  More heat. Snow’s magic is all rough edges, and right now, it’s all his.  Let Wellbelove think him interested in the curves beneath her sweater, let Snow think he wants to drink her limp. What he truly wants – Baz curls his lips, watches Snow’s fist clench free of his lady love’s fingers, then erases him with a spoonful of porridge.

(Tries to. Crowley and Merlin and Morgana, he’s tried to erase him.  He’s tried to scare him and ruin him and mute him, but Simon Snow remains a beacon of gold glinting through his thoughts.)

The porridge burns his throat; he could cast ' **chilled to the bone'** to calm the pang,but doesn’t.  

Baz fills his spoon to the brim, and swallows again.  He’ll never let them know what he wants.


End file.
